


toil & trouble

by ragesyndrome



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Karaoke, M/M, jonmartin but they dont have deep feelings yet, literally just a nice time for everyone, no eldritch horrors!!!, s1 crew has a good fun family friendly time!, same for timsasha, tim and sasha play matchmaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragesyndrome/pseuds/ragesyndrome
Summary: The season 1 crew having a nice Halloween because fuck you Elias they deserve it!! Timeline’s a little wonky, this is set sometime in season 1 before shit gets really serious. Technically the season 1 finale happened right before Halloween so we’re just gonna pretend that’s not true.Anyway. Jon’s stupid. Martin’s cute. Tim and Sasha are infinitely cooler than them. What else is new. Jon learns how to have a good time!!
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83
Collections: tma fics





	toil & trouble

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been meaning to write this for a month and couldn’t get myself to do it until literally just now, I started on Halloween at 1 AM so. Cool. I wrote this in three very sleep-deprived hours and I have no idea what’s going on.  
> CW for alcohol

Jon did not, as a rule, enjoy Halloween. He was not drawn to the morbid or macabre, he was not strange or unusual, thank you very much. And he hated, truly _loathed,_ the word _spooky._

Or, at the very least, he bristled these days at the idea of letting himself enjoy any of it. There was work to be done, and Halloween was a bad time for it. People took it into their heads to wander into the Institute with all manner of far-fetched ghost stories that Jon didn’t have time for. Not that they didn’t do that _anyway_ , but it was so much worse in October.

He was already so tired without all this. Ever since he’d been promoted to Head Archivist - and that in itself was an apparent lapse in Elias Bouchard’s sanity that Jon was still reeling from - he hadn’t been sleeping. What precious hours he did manage were full of dreams he couldn’t quite remember the details of, only that they left him shaking in the dark, pushed him to click his light back on and submerge himself into some nice calming research. Anything to not lay there alone with his thoughts.

So no, he wasn’t thrilled about Halloween.

Unfortunately, he did not have nearly as much control over his office as he’d imagined. It had begun on October the _first_ , as if they’d been waiting with baited breath all of September.

Sasha had come in from her lunch break with several shopping bags, which, okay, she was free to spend her break however she wished and _unlike some people_ she was never late and was easily the most competent person there (more competent by far than Jon himself, if he was being honest). Nothing unusual so far. She’d just slid the bags under her desk, some garlands and ghost stickers sticking out, and gotten back to work, following up on some details with the Laura Popham case.

Jon had also noticed on that day that Martin had worn a _festive_ jumper to work, some frilly orange thing with a candy corn pattern and, well it _really_ wasn’t up to the Institute’s rigorous dress code standards but, Jon had become slowly aware that the dress code didn’t seem to apply to anyone working all the way down in the archives. And, if he was being _completely_ honest - which, again, he did his best not to - the sweater had almost been endearing. Very, well, very _Martin_ , and he was just going to leave it at that.

But over the next few days… _things_ started to appear all over the archives. _Decorations._

Jon had nearly suffered a heart attack one morning when, getting to work far earlier than anyone expected of him as usual, he’d unlocked the doors and fumbled around for the lightswitch when his hand touched upon something _fuzzy._ He’d been too startled to even work up a proper scream, emitting more of a soft frenzied squeal before getting the lights on and seeing _fake cobwebs_ strewn over the doorway. It didn’t end there, either; they threaded the edges of all the assistants’ desks, in a way that might’ve been tasteful if it hadn’t been so completely barbaric to decorate with the resemblance of spiderwebs in the first place. To Jon’s mounting horror, his eyes fell upon little plastic spiders perched throughout.

It didn’t stop. Jon became slowly aware of Tim and Sasha’s growing collection of decorations; Sasha at least had the decency to add a little here, a little there, never really detracting from her work, but Tim was relentless. He also had far fewer qualms about where he put said decorations, and Jon gave up trying to keep them out of his own closed little office. There was no haven from plastic pumpkins and little witch cardboard cutouts and cheap cauldrons and orange string lights and anatomically-incorrect skeletons (the worst were the animal ones, did people really think cats’ _ears_ worked like that?) and the damn _spiderwebs_ . Martin cuffed his pants one day to show off socks printed with a ghost design, which Sasha and then Tim complimented and Jon had followed suit, it was only _polite_. Sasha pinned her hair back with clips in the shape of skeletal hands, and then Tim bleached his hair again and dyed it a deep orange, which was absolutely against Institute regulations but, well, Jon couldn’t get him into trouble for that, bi solidarity and all.

And then Martin. Martin made the Halloween playlist.

If it had genuinely slowed down their work, Jon might’ve had some ground to stand on. But everyone had insisted that _no,_ actually, Martin’s playlist helped them focus, and it would be nice really to always have some background music. And, fortunately or no, they did seem as focused as they had before. Which was to say that Sasha continued to work diligently and get things done, Tim was chaotic but got results, and Martin kept watching how-to YouTube videos for things that according to his parapsychology degree he probably _should have known how to do_ , but, well, what was Jon going to do?

But if he heard Cannibal by Kesha one more time, well, he was going to snap.

This was a weak threat. He ended up hearing the song several more times, and he did not, in fact, snap. He meant to on a few occasions. But whenever he ripped his office door open and glared out, he was hit by how… cheery, everyone seemed.

And. Okay. It was nice. Even if Jon himself wasn’t getting any sleep and felt like he was slowly going insane, it was nice to see his coworkers gushing about pumpkin spice lattes or whatever. Talking about the leaves turning as if it were the eighth wonder of the world and not something that happened every year. Contemplating potential costumes and making plans. Which, Jon quickly learned, they were not going to let him quietly slide out of.

“What, you got something better to do?” Tim prodded.

Jon honest to god almost lied and said that yes, indeed, he did. Unfortunately, he knew Tim, and knew that wouldn’t be enough. Honesty it was. “No,” he said quietly. “I suppose not.”

“So come out with us! Problem solved.”

Jon would have liked to argue that there hadn’t been a problem to begin with, he was perfectly content to spend the holiday at home or, more accurately, holed up in his shitty little office chair in front of his computer screen. But Tim had already promised to start blasting Martin’s playlist from a boombox if Jon was the only one who showed up on Halloween without a costume. It was ridiculous. Jon knew for a fact the other departments were allowed to carry on as usual, and even if Rosie had started wearing a witch hat and dangly pumpkin earrings, there certainly weren’t any _fake spiderwebs_ in the front lobby.

Still, the day came and Jon did his best not to bring the mood down. They’d all agreed _cute_ costumes only, nothing scary or gory, which was a relief. Sasha had taken pity on Jon and helped him get a costume, which was just a skeleton onesie that fit over his regular clothes. He did, on a last minute impulse, indulge in a little makeup for the look. Just a bit of eyeliner smudged under his waterline, and… it wasn’t bad. It made him feel a little more in this character, at least, like he didn’t have to play the role of Jonathan Sims Head Archivist who was absolutely thirty-five or, or however old he was pretending to be, he didn’t always remember.

Sasha turned up as a plague doctor and Tim came as some sort of steampunk pirate thing, kept calling himself _Gunpowder Tim_ all day, whatever that meant. And then Martin. Martin showed up as a spider, because of course he did. Of course he came into work with pumpkin bread he’d made to share with everyone and of course he did this while several _extra_ fuzzy grey limbs swung around him and the several _extra_ eyes painted on his forehead caught the light unnervingly.

Jon stared. “I thought we agreed no scary costumes,” he said weakly.

Martin smiled at him then - a real smile, taking in Jon’s own ensemble like he couldn’t believe Jon had actually followed through. “We said cute costumes. Spiders _are_ cute.”

He hadn’t snapped at the fiftieth time hearing Cannibal, and he didn’t snap now. Because, well. Spiders were not cute and there was no getting around this. But Martin. In a spider costume.

Jon wasn’t going to let himself think it. (He didn’t have to.)

They dragged him out into London after work (which was at a reasonable hour, because they forced him), Tim apparently leading the group to his favorite karaoke bar. Jon already knew he was not going to sing and had made this very clear, but, he could go along with everyone else. It was just getting to be dark outside, and even with his onesie over his clothes Jon shivered in the October chill. His jacket wasn’t really doing the job and he hoped they’d get inside somewhere soon. He was even looking forward to getting some alcohol in his system, just to feel the warmth inside him.

They made their way down streets clustered with people, families with small children dressed as superheroes bouncing about, teenagers with some frankly bizarre costumes as they shrieked with the joy of going out unsupervised. Tim led the way with Sasha’s arm looped through his, the two of them chattering loudly with Martin and Jon behind. Jon shivered quite a bit violently now, and, oh, maybe he really wasn’t eating or sleeping enough lately, he didn’t remember the cold bothering him this badly in the past. He did his best to hide it, even as he pulled his sleeves down around his hands, fists curled into balls to warm his fingers.

“Here, Jon, wait,” said Martin suddenly, unlooping the long scarf he had around his neck. Some people had the good sense to layer up against the cold, apparently. Yet here Martin was, easily wrapping the scarf around Jon now and tucking in the end.

Jon stood dumbly for a second before remembering himself. “Right, er. Thank you.” It was very warm and soft, crocheted from bright yellow yarn and it had the look of something homemade, uneven stitches and slightly tattered ends. It smelled like Martin, which wasn’t something Jon could quite describe, and immediately he felt embarrassed at himself for even recognizing it.

He realized with a start that they had really fallen behind now, Tim and Sasha nearly a block ahead of them, apparently not having noticed their companions had stopped. Martin laughed awkwardly and they both tried to speed-walk to catch up, but as their friends paused, _almost_ seemed to glance back but not fully, then continued to cross another street, Jon realized they were most certainly going to lose them.

“Run for it?” Martin suggested. There was something different in his eyes, gleaming and, Jon realized, really rather delightful.

“Sure,” he agreed, not at all prepared for Martin choosing to grab his _hand_ and run.

It was a halfhearted run, really, the sort of awkward jog pedestrians do when a driver stops to let them cross. Still, something warm and light bubbled up in Jon’s chest and memories of uni came unbidden to him, weekend nights running between bars with Georgie and her friends and the very brief feeling of weightlessness. Martin’s hand clasped his and pulled him along and Jon almost laughed out loud into the night.

He was breathing a bit heavily when they caught up to the others, doing his best to hide it by shoving his face downward into Martin’s scarf. Martin dropped Jon’s hand and shoved them firmly into his own jacket pockets, which, okay, Martin was probably cold now too, especially having given up his scarf. Sasha grinned at both of them and it occurred to Jon that she and Tim had been completely aware that they’d fallen behind, and… He didn’t think they’d really tried to lose them, had they? It was completely their fault that Jon was even here in the first place. Tim tossed a thumbs up at Martin and, okay, Jon was definitely confused.

Whatever inside joke they wanted to have, that was fine. Jon glanced at Martin and found himself stunned by the _lovely_ pink glow Martin’s cheeks had taken on from the brief run, and, wow, it had been some time since Jon had felt anything like all of that.

They got to the bar pretty quickly then, which was decked out for Halloween almost as much as the archives. The place was small and had a cramped feel, despite not being all that packed with people; the night was early yet. Jon was feeling a little old among the uni students dancing about, but it wasn’t like it had been that long ago for him. There was a low stage where the karaoke equipment was set up, a group of younger twenty-somethings going at it to Mr. Brightside, and a few video screens playing the lyrics.

“First round’s on me!” Tim yelled over the music. “What’s everyone want?” Jon tried to remember what he preferred to drink, but honestly in uni he’d pretty much gone for anything that was cheap and available, so he settled on a whiskey sour and helped Sasha secure a little table. The stools were entirely too tall, he had to climb up into one and _that_ was surely a design flaw, he couldn’t imagine trying to steadily climb back down while drunk.

Martin stared at him, smirking in that awkward way of his where instead of being mean it came across as all too terribly _fond._ When had Jon started documenting these kinds of details?

“If you wanted help getting up you could’ve just asked,” said Martin.

Tim came back with their drinks then and Jon hid himself in his straw. “I’m perfectly capable of getting into my chair, thank you.” He realized with a start he was still wearing Martin’s scarf, and getting a bit uncomfortably warm now that they were inside; he unlooped it and passed it back to Martin, who only took it and hung it on the back of Jon’s chair. Well. Maybe he was implying Jon could wear it when they left, as it would in all likelihood be colder outside by then. That was actually very kind of him and Jon forced himself not to read into it further.

Jon finished his drink a bit too fast, which, yeah, that was the anxiety. It was something to do that spared him from talking a bit. Sasha had gone to pick some songs and Tim was making friends with the kids now singing Toxic. So. It was only courteous that Jon order another drink for Martin while he was getting his own, which he did, weaving through the crowd back to their table with a whiskey sour in one hand and a strawberry margarita in the other. The plastic straws had Halloween prints on them, bats and ghosts and things, which was a nice touch. It wasn’t pissing Jon off so much anymore.

“O-oh!” said Martin in surprise. “Thank you!” He almost started to rush to finish his first drink, as if afraid it was rude to be going slower. Jon made a mental note in his head about not pushing his assistants to get drunk. Still, they were comfortable in their corner, seated on the same side of the little table and turned toward the stage where Sasha and Tim now took the mikes, and Zombie by the Cranberries started to play.

The two of them were having a good time up there, and to be honest, they really did not sound bad. It all started to wash over Jon for a moment, being here with his ~~coworkers~~ friends and he didn’t even mind wearing a stupid skeleton costume, really, it was actually quite comfortable and the fuzzy texture was nice, and what was _also_ nice was Martin seated a little too close to him, their arms banging into each other. Zombie turned to Waterloo turned Season of the Witch turned to Africa turned to Bohemian Rhapsody turned into Rebel Rebel. Jon found himself almost singing, or, well, he _was_ but he carefully kept it lower than the volume of the crowd, which wasn’t difficult.

Martin pressed into his side a little more then, grinning, and Jon realized that even if the rest of the room definitely couldn’t hear him singing over the general cacophony, _Martin_ could.

Well. So much for Jon’s vehement promise not to sing. No one was going to get him on stage, at least. He did have the thought though. Not tonight, he felt sure. But he had the awareness that if they all dragged him out to a few more nights like this, he’d probably let himself be pulled up there. And it wouldn’t even be bad, he thought. All of this. Maybe not shutting everyone out so much, and maybe even not being so short with Martin every time he brought Jon a cup of tea. Oh. Jon wasn’t very nice to him all the time, was he? He’d have to apologize for that.

Still, Martin was warm and Jon leaned into him incrementally, and, okay, the spider limbs really weren’t bothering him anymore, and the painted eyes had been a bit freaky but they were smudged on Martin’s forehead by this point and it was all very messy and cute. Tim and Sasha came back for a bit, and there may have been threats to make Jon get up and dance with them but they relented on him this time. And maybe Jon did not, as a rule, despise Halloween.

**Author's Note:**

> As I wrote this I realized how much I miss going to karaoke bars. Thank you quarantine. One day I’ll be able to go out with my friends again :)  
> Songs mentioned:  
> \- Cannibal // Kesha  
> \- Mr. Brightside // the Killers  
> \- Toxic // Brittany Spears  
> \- Zombie // the Cranberries  
> \- Waterloo // ABBA  
> \- Season of the Witch // Donovan  
> \- Africa // Toto  
> \- Bohemian Rhapsody // Queen  
> \- Rebel Rebel // David Bowie  
> Honorable mention to Gunpowder Tim from the Mechanisms <3


End file.
